<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>Control Freak by IneffableAlien</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25454455">Control Freak</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/IneffableAlien/pseuds/IneffableAlien'>IneffableAlien</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>problematic behavior [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Magnus Archives (Podcast)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Attempted Rape/Non-Con, Dark Jon Sims, Dehumanization, Do Not Archive (The Magnus Archives), Dom/sub Undertones, Elias Bouchard Being a Bastard, M/M, Mental Health Issues, No Plot/Plotless, Sexual Harassment, Unhealthy Relationships, takes place between MAG 67 and MAG 68</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-07-23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-07-23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 09:27:40</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Rape/Non-Con</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,016</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25454455</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/IneffableAlien/pseuds/IneffableAlien</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>When Elias gave Jon a key to the tunnels, he made him earn it.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Elias Bouchard/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>problematic behavior [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1845439</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>80</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Control Freak</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Have a Jonelias one-shot that nobody wanted while I take too long working on my longfic!  Special thanks to my Discord server for encouraging me.</p><p><a href="http://bastard-men-prefer-jon.tumblr.com">Follow my sideblog</a> if you like stuff like this :)</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Jon sulked in front of the open door of Elias’s office, having just stepped inside before Elias spoke.  “Do not tell me that you have changed your mind,” Jon said with a scowl.</p><p>Elias smiled, his lips pressed together like the cut of a straight razor.  He could See right down to the riptide of anxiety that threatened below Jon’s illusory impertinence.  “Certainly not,” Elias said.  “I assured you I would have a key to the tunnels made for you, and I am a man of my word.”</p><p>“Is that so,” Jon said dryly.</p><p>“When have I lied to you?” Elias asked, and Jon had no reply to that.  Elias did not tell lies with words.  Elias gestured again to the chair on the opposite side of his desk.  “Come, Jon,” he said soothingly, as though he were settling a skittish animal.  “Inviting you to my office to have a break and chat in private is hardly reason to believe that I intend to go back on my promise to you.”</p><p>
  <i>Please, Elias, I need to know.</i>
</p><p>Jon’s words from the night before still thrummed in Elias’s ears, making his blood flow and his heart pump as well as any human’s.  The grip of the Beholding was digging into Jon’s essence so soon, and it was near ecstasy to bear witness to his progress.  More than anything Elias had ever earned in this life—every possession, every accomplishment—nothing made him prouder than Jon.</p><p>It didn’t hurt that Jon was beautiful, and Elias had had plenty of time throughout the years to cultivate an eye for aesthetics.  Jon’s flinching hurt was freely on display in his dark wet eyes, and he had brought that flavor with him to the Institute, already ingrained.  Elias hardly missed the days of experiencing such deep emotion, but one did not need to be a master artist to appreciate a masterpiece.  Elias <i>felt</i> things when he looked upon Jon, like Elias was a mirror reflecting someone else’s truth.</p><p>Or, perhaps more accurately, a stone that offered no warmth of its own baking in the sun.</p><p>Elias was desperate for that heat.  As Jon sat across from him, Elias had a flashing image of sliding his fingers up the nape of Jon’s neck, then grabbing roughly two fistfuls of silver-streaked waves—holding Jon’s head still so Elias could carefully nudge that aquiline nose and kiss the brow above a shocked stare.  Elias let that thought ripple around the room, and Jon, far enough in his Becoming to gather it but not far enough to understand that the thoughts were not his own, visibly shuddered.</p><p>“Are you feeling all right, Jon?” Elias asked, his voice colored with concern.</p><p>“I,” Jon started, “… yes.  Yes, I’m fine.”  Jon appeared to be metaphorically shaking off Elias’s subtle fantasy.</p><p>“That’s good to hear,” Elias said, back to his typical clipped tone.  “Let’s get to business then.”  Elias swiftly switched gears as though he were unaware that any charged moment had passed.  “I did bring a copy of the key to the tunnels.”</p><p>Jon sat up straight in his chair, all previous concern abandoned in favor of a singleminded purpose.  Then his expression creased uneasily.  “Do I feel a ‘but’ coming on?”</p><p><i>“But,”</i> Elias confirmed, “it should go without saying that this is a very … off-the-books sort of permission granted.”</p><p>“You want a favor,” Jon said miserably.</p><p>Elias stood, and walked over to position himself between Jon and the desk so quickly that Jon had to shove backwards so as not to receive a faceful of the front of Elias’s trousers.  “What an ugly way to phrase it,” Elias admonished.  “Think of it more like a gentlemen’s agreement.”</p><p>Having Elias hover above Jon in his personal space put Jon’s teeth on edge.  He stood and circled behind his chair, attempting to make the motion look meaninglessly casual by curling his fingers over the back of the chair and leaning forward slightly.  It was adorably awkward, and Elias bit back a smile.  “Well,” Jon said, “what do you want?”</p><p>Elias coolly strode past him, and it took a second to register with Jon that Elias was now effectively blocking the door for some reason.  “Nothing that you can’t enjoy as much as I know I will,” Elias murmured, stepping directly in front of Jon.  In one fluid movement, Elias grabbed Jon’s right wrist and pinned it to the small of Jon’s back, almost simultaneously catching his other wrist to do the same on that side.  Transferring both to his right hand, Elias reached up with his long fingers to grind Jon’s slender wrists together, cuffing Jon’s hands and caging his frame against him.  Elias raised his free hand to pet the thick greying hair at Jon’s temple.</p><p>The element of surprise had left Jon open to be moved too docilely into such a compromised position, but now he thrashed as though a switch had been flipped inside his brain, snarling and riding the chemical rush of old trauma.  Elias was not a tall man, and it pleased him that Jon was smaller than he was.  Even if they had been the same size, however, Elias still would have been a great deal stronger than Jon this early in Jon’s transformation.  Elias pressed the heel of his hand into Jon’s sternum, not roughly, and pushed back against the arm stilling Jon’s hands before Jon could think of resorting to biting.  If Jon had been in a rational place of mind, it might have horrified him further to be able to digest how tenderly Elias manipulated his body now, how soft his deceptively warm brown eyes peered down on him.</p><p>Elias could not remember being so fond of anything.</p><p>Releasing Jon’s chest, Elias absentmindedly curved down to dig his thumb into the femoral nerve of the leg that Jon kept annoyingly bending to try to knee Elias in the groin.  Jon yelped, snapping his leg back, and Elias nuzzled Jon’s hair and shushed into it, as sweetly as if Jon were something he was training and he had just earned a sniff of positive reinforcement.  “Please don’t hurt yourself, Jon,” Elias whispered, grasping and lifting Jon’s chin and trailing kisses down his exposed throat.  “I have no desire to see you in pain.”</p><p>Jon’s breathing was ragged, and his heart was pounding so hard in his chest that he thought he might be physically ill shortly.  The fight was leeching out of him, not because he welcomed the touching; simply because of the depersonalization predictably setting in.  Elias sensed this (it was not exactly something that took any effort to Know) and let go of Jon’s wrists, stroking Jon’s cheeks instead and finally beginning to kiss his mouth.  Elias rocked his hips along Jon’s body, and he smiled against Jon’s lips as he felt the unwilling response.  “Then stop hurting me,” Jon mumbled.  “Elias,” he breathed into his mouth, “don’t do this.  Just stop.”</p><p>Elias pulled back to gaze into Jon’s eyes, and he inhaled sharply to see his pupils blown wide with panic.  “Perfect,” Elias drawled.  He ran his fingers back through Jon’s hair, and Jon choked at how his senses betrayed him by making him tilt his head back to chase the feeling.  “Such fear,” Elias said softly.  He dragged his thigh across the outline through fabric of Jon’s hard cock.  “And your body is so thrown as to what to do with it, and that only serves to make you more afraid … isn’t that right?”</p><p>Jon made a single cracked sound, nothing remotely close to a language.</p><p>Elias left a lingering kiss on Jon’s forehead, massaging light circles down Jon’s sides until he reached his waist.</p><p>“Don’t,” Jon found a word.</p><p>Elias’s eyes searched Jon’s face meaningfully.  “Jon,” he said, “do you think I plan to fuck you?”</p><p>Jon said nothing, but the way his jaw tensed then was impossible to miss.</p><p>“I said I didn’t want to do anything you couldn’t enjoy,” Elias reminded.  “And like I said, I am a man of my word.  This would be going so much better for you if you would just relax and trust me.”</p><p>That statement must have brought Jon back to himself, because he barked out a bitter laugh and jerked as if to push himself aside and out of Elias’s reach.  Elias reacted by hooking his thumbs into Jon’s hipbones to keep him in place, and Jon hissed in discomfort.  “Trust you?” Jon snapped.  “Seriously?”</p><p>“I know you better than you think, Jon,” Elias said, loosening his hold but maintaining control.  Several beats passed before either one of them spoke.</p><p>“You want to be valued, just once in your life,” Elias said at last.  Jon blinked, suddenly too curious for his own good.  Elias continued.  “You like the idea of one man willingly ‘belonging’ to another, because that unusual proclivity for … playacting has come to denote an unfathomable degree of <i>wanting</i> each other in your mind … and you have always wanted someone to want you—instead of being <i>saddled</i> with you.”  Elias paused, and Jon remained frozen when Elias slid his hands behind and up Jon’s back.  “You would like to not have to feel that constant pressure to always be proving that you’re the smartest one in the room.”  Elias smirked at that.  “That’s about cultivating a sense of control, you know,” he said.  “When a man feels like he has to be in control at all times, sometimes what he needs most is to submit to another.”</p><p>“I don’t—,” Jon started.</p><p>“It’s not always about sex, Jon,” Elias said firmly.  There was an instant, and then, strangely, as though he believed that he had won Jon over, Elias dropped his hands and took enough of a step back to make himself vulnerable.  “It’s about—”</p><p>Jon shot to one side, reaching up to grab the back of Elias’s head and attempting to slam it down on the desk.  It didn’t work.  Jon had no real experience fighting, nor had the attack surprised Elias in the slightest, but Elias did allow Jon to push him down about halfway before bracing himself a foot above the desk.  Jon continued scrabbling to shove Elias the rest of the way down, and Elias smiled, utterly charmed.  It was precious.  After a pointed moment, Elias lowered his chest the rest of the way to the desk, gliding his cheek onto the cool surface.  Jon had moved behind him to gain leverage from between his legs, and his violent movements stuttered confusedly at Elias’s apparent surrender.</p><p><i>“There</i> it is,” Elias purred.  “There’s the fight in my Archivist.”</p><p>Jon was infuriated.  He draped his body over Elias’s back so he could hiss in his ear, ignoring how Elias moved against the heat below Jon’s belly.  “You were pushing me to do this?  This is what you were after?”  Jon grabbed Elias’s hair and pulled, and Elias’s jaw dropped with a gasp.  “You are a vile person, do you know that?”</p><p>Elias arched back so that the top of his head slid beneath Jon’s chin, and Jon couldn’t help but take in his cologne.  Some kind of aquatic.  “Well,” Elias said, “what do you plan to do about it, Jon?”</p><p><i>He’s still in charge,</i> Jon realized with disgust.  <i>Even like this he’s the one in control.</i></p><p>Jon shoved roughly against the back of Elias’s head as he pushed off him.  “Nothing,” Jon growled.  “I’m not playing this sick game with you.  And don’t ever touch me again.”</p><p>Elias remained exactly where Jon had put him, and Jon turned to leave.</p><p>Jon was stunned by the out-of-character voice in his own head.  <i>Don’t you need to know, Jon?</i>  He hesitated.</p><p><i>Elias Bouchard, of all people, wants you to dominate him, maybe even</i> hurt <i>him, and you</i> know <i>he deserves it …  Don’t you want to find out how that feels?  <span class="u">How far you can go?</span></i></p><p>Jon shook his head wildly, coming to a decision.  He kept walking toward the exit.</p><p>Jon locked the door before he turned back to face the desk, and Elias Bouchard smiled.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>xx <a href="http://siliconealien.tumblr.com">siliconealien</a></p></blockquote></div></div>
</body>
</html>